The Creeping Dead: Book 2

by Edward P. Cardillo

  “You should come with us,” offered Vinnie.

  Salvatore looked pleadingly at his mother. Alessandra, less subtle, jumped up and down chanting, “Please, Mom! Please, Mom!”

  Marie smiled. “Okay, but you two have to stay with Vinnie and Dharma. I don’t want you two wandering off.”

  “Yay!” cheered Alessandra.

  Salvatore smiled, high-fiving Vinnie.

  “We’re going to go in a few minutes,” said Dharma, consulting the time on her cell phone. “I just wanna say hi to Lenny and Tara.”

  “What about the music?” protested Marie. “I hear this guy’s good! He’s gonna sing some Bob Dylan, Bruce Springsteen, and Meatloaf!”

  Salvatore grimaced. “Gross, Mom.”

  Marie shrugged. “What, you love my meatloaf?”

  Salvatore rolled his eyes. “You need new jokes, Mom. Seriously.”

  “Well, you two be back by nine at the latest,” warned Marie.

  “We’ll have them back with most of their fingers and toes,” cracked Dharma. She placed her arm around Alessandra, and they walked towards Tara. Vinnie and Salvatore followed, shuffling through the sand.

  The fire was underway and growing, as people gathered round in folding beach chairs and on blankets. The musician, a portly older man with long, straw-like hair and side burns, introduced himself as Pete Wendell, and he began to belt out “American Pie” by Don McLean.

  “Hey, guys,” Lenny said, beaming.

  “Vinnie!” cried Tyrell, running over and slapping him five with the gusto only a seven-year-old could muster. Vinnie pretended to wave his hand in the air, as if it hurt. Tyrell then gave Dharma a hug.

  Tara smiled at Vinnie. “I’m glad you made it.”

  “Thanks,” said Vinnie, returning the smile. “A good friend told me I should be here.”

  “But we’re not staying long,” said Dharma. “We’re all going to Blackbeard’s to go on some rides. Nancy’s orders.”

  Tyrell’s head immediately whipped around to his mother.

  Tara was already nodding her consent. “That sounds like fun. You can go with them, Ty, but you have to stay with Vinnie and Dharma at all times.”

  “Yay!” He jumped up and down in the sand.

  “It appears we’ve formed a posse,” said Vinnie.

  “Let’s hit the pier before it gets crowded,” suggested Dharma.

  “I don’t think it’ll be all that crowded,” said Tara. “Some people have already left. The ones who don’t work here in town. There’s nothing keeping them here.”

  “Well, we’d better get going before it’s too late,” pressed Dharma, quickly changing the subject away from zombies.

  “Can you drop him by here by around eight?” asked Tara, checking the time on her own cell.

  “Aw, Mom. That’s too early,” protested Tyrell.

  Tara put her hands on her hips. “You can always stay here with me…”

  Tyrell realized he’d taken it too far. Some rides were better than none. “Eight o’clock is good, Mom.”

  Tara arched an eyebrow. “Thought so.”

  “Can I go, too?” asked Lenny, fearing he was going to be left out.

  “As long as you stay with Vinnie and Tara at all times,” said Tara. When she saw Lenny begin to grouse, she added, “and keep an eye on Tyrell. Make sure he stays out of trouble.”

  Lenny’s expression softened. He smiled and gave Tara an enthusiastic thumbs up. “Okay!”

  “Okay, gang,” said Dharma, making a large sweeping gesture with her right hand. “Let’s roll out!”

  The small gang now negotiated their way back through the crowd and toward the boardwalk to the tune of “Keep on Rockin’ in the Free World” by Neil Young.

  They passed Officer Becky, in full uniform talking to Mr. MacDonald and his wife. She glanced at Vinnie and smiled. Vinnie blushed and smiled back, quickly averting his gaze.

  Dharma noticed and punched him in the arm. “What the hell was that?”

  “What?” Vinnie said, shrugging.

  “You know what! I saw that.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “You’re lucky we’re surrounded by all these kids.”

  “I’m not a kid,” complained Lenny. “I-I-I’m all g-grown up now.”

  “Yes, Lenny,” assured Dharma. “I wasn’t talking about you, silly.”

  This assuaged him, and he continued on, keeping a watchful hand on Tyrell’s shoulder as per his charge.

  As they took to the boardwalk, Dharma slipped her sandals back on, and she and Vinnie led the way. This was more than a group of friends. This was a group of survivors who went through hell together and emerged on the other side, which made them a kind of makeshift family.

  They passed the heavy metal T-shirt shop. Incense wafted on the gentle breeze. Dharma inhaled deeply, savoring it. To her, it was the smell of summer. Lenny scrunched his nose up, not appreciating the potent odor.

  They passed balloon dart games, smaller arcades, and ice cream parlors. Lenny tugged at Vinnie’s sleeve, winking and nodding towards the ice cream. Tyrell eyed Vinnie expectantly, gauging his response.

  “Maybe after the rides,” prompted Vinnie. “You don’t want to get sick.”

  Lenny nodded and gave Vinnie a thumbs up. Tyrell frowned, not wanting to delay gratification. His frustration quickly gave way to enthusiasm when he saw the Shoot the Zombie booth. “I wanna do that!” He pointed at the booth.

  Now Vinnie’s expression soured. “Really, Ty? C’mon. I thought you weren’t into guns and shooting.”

  “I said my mom wasn’t. Besides, those aren’t real guns.”

  “He has a point,” said Salvatore.

  Alessandra elbowed him, shooting him a dirty look.

  “Oh, why not?” offered Dharma. “Let’s see if we can hit more targets than the boys.”

  Alessandra gripped Dharma’s arm, and she grinned in wicked delight.

  “You’re on,” chortled Salvatore. “You girls don’t stand a chance.”

  “I don’t know,” hesitated Vinnie. “Don’t you think this is in poor taste, especially after this morning?”

  “Someone sounds chicken,” said Dharma to Alessandra, and the two of them giggled conspiratorially.

  “C’mon, man,” pleaded Tyrell.

  “Think of it as therapy,” coaxed Dharma.

  Vinnie smiled and pointed an accusatory finger at her. “No one calls us chicken! Right, boys?”

  He, Salvatore, and Tyrell exchanged high fives, and they all approached the booth.

  “How many of you?” asked the carnie behind the counter.

  “Are you playing?” Vinnie asked Lenny.

  Lenny put up both hands, palms facing out, and shook his head. “Nah, you guys p-p-play.”

  “Five,” Vinnie told the carnie.

  “Fifteen bucks.”

  “Jesus,” muttered Vinnie, as he reached into his wallet. He slammed a ten and a five down on the counter top. He turned to the rest of the group. “You guys aren’t cheap dates.”

  Vinnie kicked a milk crate over for Tyrell to stand on as Salvatore took his place by a paintball gun. Dharma and Alessandra were at their stations. Each of them picked up their paint guns, hefting them, as Lenny stood to the side and watched.

  Inside the booth, multicolored lights flashed over a paint-stained room with wooden cutouts of zombies towards the back in various menacing poses. The carnie stepped aside, “Go ahead.”

  The girls immediately started firing. Dharma’s shots were wild, but Alessandra’s were controlled and disciplined. Even though shooting paintballs was akin to firing balls out of muskets, Alessandra managed to score some hits, mostly head and shoulder shots.

  Tyrell’s shots were wild like Dharma’s, but Salvatore’s were like his sister’s, controlled and often hitting their marks. Vinnie stood there, weapon raised and sighted, but he didn’t fire. Instead, he blinked and squinted as lights flashed and tinny moans emanated fr
om cheap speakers mounted inside the booth.

  He narrowed his gaze, focusing on the zombie targets, but to him they didn’t appear to be wooden cutouts. He knew it was a trick of the lighting and his mind, but he could’ve sworn, for the life of him, that they were moving slowly, hands reaching out for him. His palms grew sweaty as the kids cheered around him.

  When the others had expended their ammunition, Vinnie stood there, transfixed. Dharma’s voice called out to him from off-stage in his mind’s eye as the lights dimmed, “Vinnie, are you okay?”

  Vinnie clenched his teeth as the ambling zombies gnashed theirs in feral hunger. He yanked on the trigger, firing one shot after another, actually making head shots here and there. He growled with each pull of the trigger, grunting every time a paintball found purchase. His growls synchronized with the zombies’ moans as he sneered at them in contempt.

  After a minute, he found himself pulling on the trigger, but no more paintballs were firing. There was only the sound of discharged CO2.

  “You can stop now,” said the carnie, also from off-stage in the darkness. “You’re out of ammo.”

  The darkness in his periphery receded, and Vinnie shook his head, chasing away the moans and the illusion of staggering dead. He slowly lowered his paintball gun to the countertop. When he looked over at the rest of the gang, he saw them staring back at him, stunned.

  Dharma looked concerned. Alessandra looked from Vinnie to Dharma, mirroring Dharma’s concern, not exactly sure what had just happened. Salvatore looked away awkwardly, as if embarrassed for Vinnie.

  Tyrell beamed, triumphant. “I think we hit more than the girls!”

  Dharma put her arm around Vinnie. She whispered in his ear, “Are you okay?”

  Vinnie, wiping sweat from his brow, his hand trembling, nodded silently.

  Dharma wanted to move on past whatever just happened. “Okay, kids. Enough of this. Let’s go on some rides!”

  Everyone, including Lenny, cheered.

  As they strolled down the boardwalk, they passed Mac’s Pub. Inside there were hulking bikers huddled around the bar, arms around each other, belting out “Never Gonna Give You Up” with Rick Astley on the jukebox.

  This shook Vinnie out of his funk. “Now, there’s something you don’t see every day.

  They walked onto Blackbeard’s Pier and were immediately inundated with the sounds and flashing lights of rides. There was the buzzing of the motorcycles, the bells of the boats, and the roar of the Pirate’s Cove roller coaster. In the distance, there was the bass thumping of the Raging Rapids—a fast, circular ride that had its own DJ pumping out heavy dance beats.

  “I wanna go on that,” said Alessandra, pointing to the Raging Rapids.

  Dharma looked at Salvatore, who nodded his approval.

  “That looks too s-s-scary,” said Lenny.

  Tyrell looked on in awe, thankful he was too short to meet the height requirement.

  “Why don’t I take Lenny and Tyrell around while you guys go on that ride?” offered Vinnie.

  “Good idea,” said Dharma. “You guys find rides you can go on. We’ll meet up later, right here.”

  Vinnie and the boys nodded, and they watched Dharma, Alessandra, and Salvatore head off to the Raging Rapids ride, which had already garnered a sizeable line. Due to the dance beats pumping out from a live DJ, the ride was always popular, particularly with the teens. It was currently blasting a remix of “Cool for the Summer” by Demi Lovato, laying on the bass thick.

  Vinnie looked around the pier. “So, what do you guys wanna go on first?”

  “I wanna go on the sky ride,” blurted Tyrell.

  Vinnie looked to Lenny. “Sound good?”

  Lenny nodded and gave a thumbs up.

  The three boys headed towards the sky ride. There was a short line. Vinnie produced a ten dollar bill as the line moved quickly to the ticket window. There was a cute blonde girl selling tickets.

  “How many?”

  “Three,” said Vinnie, shoving the ten under the glass.

  The girl rang up three and handed back two-fifty in change with three orange tickets. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks.” Vinnie snatched up the change and shoved it into his right pocket. He palmed the tickets and headed inside the chain-link fence with Tyrell and Lenny. Lenny was rubbing his hands together in eager anticipation. He didn’t like fast rides, but he didn’t mind height, as long as it was slow. The sky ride afforded a nice view of the beach, which was a bonus. Tyrell extended a hand for his ticket.

  “I’ll hold the tickets,” insisted Vinnie, correctly assuming that it was unsafe in unsure hands. He had babysat Tyrell on more than a few occasions. He didn’t want them falling between the planks of the boardwalk. “Ty, you’re riding with me. Lenny, you’ll get your own chair. Okay?”

  Lenny was looking around, excited. He grinned at Vinnie. “No problem.” He didn’t mind at all, because in his mind he wasn’t alone. Billy Blake, in his superhero sidekick costume, was right beside him, currently checking out the ass of a teenage girl with her boyfriend in front of them. Some things never changed.

  As they approached the turnstile, the attendant took the tickets from Vinnie. “Only two per chair.”

  “I know,” said Vinnie, pulling Tyrell to his side. “He’s with me.”

  She looked at Lenny and smiled, recognizing him. Everyone knew Lenny. He was the unofficial Mayor of Smuggler’s Bay, especially after the attack two summers ago.

  “Hi, Lenny.” Her greeting had a flirty, singsong quality to it.

  Lenny blushed, which seemed to please the girl.

  Being a resident of the Bay from birth, Vinnie knew the drill. As she let him and Tyrell through the turnstile, she guided them to the psychedelic green footprints on the ground. He and Tyrell stood side-by-side, waiting. As the next chair swung around, the attendant swung the safety bar up, grabbed it, and slowed it down, her feet dragging slightly on the wooden planks.

  “Hold on,” said Vinnie.

  Vinnie and Tyrell hopped up and sat in the chair, and the attendant swung the safety bar down. Vinnie’s feet touched the footrests, but Tyrell’s feet dangled. He was wearing sneakers, so it was all right.

  As the chair took off on its gradual climb, Vinnie looked back at Lenny, who deftly hopped into his chair right behind them. The girl said something that made Lenny smile, and she lowered the safety bar.

  Lenny saw Vinnie looking back. He smiled and waved.

  When Vinnie turned back around, he saw Tyrell looking down at the boardwalk. His feet kicked in excitement, which made Vinnie smile. It was just as well. Vinnie wasn’t crazy about those fast rides and their drops. No, the sky ride was just his speed.

  Watching Tyrell reminded him of when he first went on the sky ride as a kid. His mother had taken him. Like Vinnie, she did not particularly like the fast rides. That was his father’s cup of tea.

  They were able to see the rooftops of the various arcades and storefronts, and the rest of the Bay behind it all. The Smuggler’s Bay water tower, blending into the fabric of the night sky, was no longer visible. There were cars driving on the streets, but nowhere near the traffic during prime season.

  Vinnie pointed ahead. “Look, you can see the bonfire at the other end.”

  Tyrell looked, trying to make out the people. However, they were too far away. They’d be there soon enough. Vinnie had purchased round trip tickets, so they’d swing right through the station on the other side and return to the pier.

  Tyrell scrunched up his face and narrowed his gaze. He pointed off in the distance, towards the water. “What’s that?’

  Vinnie looked in the direction he was pointing. At first, he didn’t see it. “What are you talking about?”

  “Those glowing things,” insisted Tyrell. “They look like animal eyes.”

  Vinnie laughed. “They’re probably a horde of feral cats. We’ve had a ton of them since the superstorm.”

  The wind was picking up, as the ride had rea
ched its apex. Vinnie felt goosebumps on his arms. There was a low moan to the wind, a disconcerting sound that reminded him of something.

  Then he saw it.

  Vinnie screwed his eyes to try and make it out. It looked like pairs of glowing eyes, like cats’ eyes, off by the water, a short distance from the bonfire. They were moving slowly in the dark. Vinnie heard the sound of the waves crashing, but the waves were concealed by the darkness.

  “No.”

  “What?” asked Tyrell, unsure of why Vinnie’s expression suddenly became grave.

  “It can’t be,” demanded Vinnie, now leaning forward in his chair.

  “What?” pressed Tyrell, now looking off in the distance at the glowing eyes.

  “Those aren’t cats,” declared Vinnie.

  “What are they?”

  Vinnie reached for his phone. He pulled it out of his pocket and dialed 911. “Hello. This is going to sound weird, but I’m calling from the sky ride on the boardwalk, and I think I’ve spotted a large group of zombies on the beach! They’re headed right for the bonfire!”

  Tyrell’s eyes grew wide. His body became rigid, and a chill ran through his little frame that had nothing to do with the cool ocean breeze.

  “No,” argued Vinnie, “I know this isn’t funny. This isn’t a prank. There is a group of zombies on the beach heading right for the bonfire.”

  Tyrell saw the glowing eyes advancing slowly towards the bonfire. Towards his mother.

  “Please, get someone to check it out!”

  Tyrell grabbed Vinnie’s arm. “My mom’s down there.”

  “Okay, okay. Just make it quick. People are going to get hurt.” Vinnie hung up the phone.

  “Vinnie, my mom.”

  “I know, Ty. I just got off the phone with the police. They have someone down there.”

  “She needs to get out of there!” Tyrell was nearly hysterical. “We need to get her out of there!”

  “Calm down,” said Vinnie, placing his arm around Tyrell. “We’re going to warn them.”

  “Are you sure it’s zombies? Are you sure it’s them, Vinnie?”

  As the sky ride crept closer, they passed alongside the glowing eyes and were closing in on the bonfire celebration. Vinnie began to wave his arms and shout down at the people below. Mellow folk music bellowed out of the speakers on the beach.